special one that teaches magic?”
“That’s us,” Sim said agreeably. “We are chock full of arcane secrets.”
“We tinker with dark forces better left alone,” Wil said nonchalantly.
“It’s called the Arcanum, by the way,” I pointed out.
Denna nodded seriously as she leaned forward, her expression intent. “Between the three of you, I’m guessing you know how most of it works.” She looked at us. “So tell me. How does it work?”
“It?” I asked.
“Magic,” she said. “Real magic.”
Wil, Sim, and I exchanged glances.
“It’s complicated,” I said.
Denna shrugged and leaned back in her chair. “I have all the time in the world,” she said. “And I need to know how it works. Show me. Do some magic.”
The three of us shifted uncomfortably in our seats. Denna laughed.
“We’re not supposed to,” I said.
“What?” she asked. “Does it disturb some cosmic balance?”
“It disturbs the constables,” I said. “They don’t take kindly to that sort of thing over here.”
“The masters at the University don’t care for it much either,” Wil said. “They’re very mindful of the University’s reputation.”
“Oh come now,” Denna said. “I heard a story about how our man Kvothe called up some sort of demon wind.” She jerked her thumb at the door behind her. “Right in the courtyard outside.”
Had Ambrose told her that? “It was just a wind,” I said. “No demon involved.”
“They whipped him for it, too,” Wil said.
Denna looked at him as if she couldn’t tell if he were joking, then shrugged. “Well I wouldn’t want to get anyone in trouble,” she said with glaring insincerity. “But I am powerfully curious. And I have secrets I am willing to offer in trade.”
Sim perked up at this. “What sort of secrets?”
“All the vast and varied secrets of womankind,” she said with a smile. “I happen to know several things that can help improve your failing relations with the gentler sex.”
Sim leaned closer to Wil and asked in a stage whisper. “Did she say
Wil pointed at his own chest, then Sim’s. “Me: failing. You: flailing.”
Denna raised one eyebrow and cocked her head to one side, looking at the three of us expectantly.
I cleared my throat uncomfortably. “We’re discouraged from sharing Arcanum secrets. It’s not strictly against the laws of the University—”
“It is, actually,” Simmon interrupted, giving me an apologetic look. “Several laws.”
Denna gave a dramatic sigh, looking up at the high ceiling. “I thought as much,” she said. “You lot just talk a good game. Admit it, you can’t turn cream into butter.”
“I happen to know for a fact that Sim can turn cream into butter,” I said. “He just doesn’t like to because he’s lazy.”
“I’m not asking you to
Sim looked at Wil. “That wouldn’t fall under Unsanctioned Divulgence, would it?”
“Illicit Revelation,” Wil said grimly.
Denna leaned forward conspiratorially, resting her elbows on the table. “In that case,” she said. “I am also willing to finance a night of extravagant drinking, far above and beyond the simple bottle you see before you.” She turned her gaze to Wil. “One of the bartenders here has recently discovered a dusty stone bottle in the basement. Not only is it fine old scutten, drink of the kings of Cealdim, it is a Merovani as well.”
Wilem’s expression didn’t change, but his dark eyes glittered.
I looked around the largely empty room. “Orden is a slow night. We shouldn’t have any trouble if we keep things quiet.” I looked at the other two.
Sim was grinning his boyish grin. “It seems reasonable. A secret for a secret.”
“If it is truly a Merovani,” Wilem said. “I am willing to risk offending the masters’ sensibilities somewhat.”
“Right then,” Denna said with a wide grin. “You first.”
Sim leaned forward in his chair. “Sympathy is probably the easiest to get a grip on,” he said, then paused as if uncertain how to proceed.
I stepped in. “You know how a block and tackle lets you lift something too heavy for you to lift by hand?”
Denna nodded.
“Sympathy lets us do things like that,” I said. “But without all the awkward rope and pulleys.”
Wilem dropped a pair of iron drabs onto the table and muttered a binding. He pushed the right-hand one with a finger, and the left-hand one slid across the table at the same time, mimicking the motion.
Denna’s eyes went at little wide at this, and while she didn’t gasp, she did draw a long breath through her nose. It only then occurred to me that she’d probably never seen anything like this before. Given my studies, it was easy to forget that someone could live mere miles from the University without ever having any exposure to even the most basic sympathy.
To her credit, Denna recovered from her surprise without missing a beat. With only the slightest hesitation, she reached out a finger to touch one of the drabs. “This is how the bell in my room worked,” she mused.
I nodded.
Wil slid his drab across the table, and Denna picked it up. The other drab rose off the table too, bobbing in midair. “It’s heavy,” she said, then nodded to herself. “Right, because it’s like a pulley. I’m lifting both of them.”
“Heat, light, and motion are all just energy,” I said. “We can’t create energy or make it disappear. But sympathy lets us move it around or change it from one type into another.”
She put the drab back down on the table and the other followed suit. “And this is useful how?”
Wil grunted with vague amusement. “Is a waterwheel useful?” he asked. “Is a windmill?”
I reached into the pocket of my cloak. “Have you ever seen a sympathy lamp?” I asked.
She nodded.
I slid my hand lamp across the table to her. “They work under the same principle. They take a little bit of heat and turn it into light. It converts one type of energy into another.”
“Like a moneychanger,” Wil said.
Denna turned the lamp over in her hands curiously. “Where does it get the heat?”
“The metal itself holds heat,” I explained. “If you leave it on, you’ll eventually feel the metal get chilly. If it gets too cold, it won’t work.” I pointed. “I made that one, so it’s pretty efficient. Just the heat from your hand should be enough to keep it working.”
Denna flicked the switch and dull red light shone out in a narrow arc. “I can see how heat and light are related,” she said thoughtfully. “The sun is bright and warm. Same with a candle.” She frowned. “But motion doesn’t fit into it. A fire can’t push something.”
“Think about friction,” Sim chimed in. “When you rub something it gets hot.” He demonstrated by running his hand back and forth vigorously across the fabric of his pants. “Like this.”
He continued rubbing his thigh enthusiastically, unaware of the fact that, since it was happening below the level of the table, it looked more than slightly obscene. “It’s all just energy. If you keep doing it, you’ll feel it get hot.”
Denna somehow kept a straight face. But Wilem started to laugh, covering his face with one hand, as if embarrassed to be sitting at the same table with Sim.
Simmon froze and flushed red with embarrassment.
I came to his rescue. “It’s a good example. The hub of a wagon wheel will be warm to the touch. That heat comes from the motion of the wheel. A sympathist can make the energy go the other way, from heat into motion.” I pointed to the lamp. “Or from heat into light.”
